


Sometimes Love is Clear and Sharp

by Leela



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coming Untouched, Derek Pierces Stiles' Nipples, Hand Jobs, M/M, Needles, Nipple Piercings, piercing kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're sure?" Derek asks, even though what he wants to say is <em>don't change your mind</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Love is Clear and Sharp

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eeyore9990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/gifts).



> One night on Twitter, @eeyore9990 was talking about Stiles' nipples and piercings, and I wrote this to feed her obsession. 
> 
> I also made her beta the final version, because I love her like that. :)
> 
> This was originally posted as a TweetFic, 140 characters at a time, but it's been cleaned up since then.

Stiles is lying on his back, arms over his head, holding onto the old brass headboard. His knees are bent, legs apart, feet planted flat on the bed. He's bare-chested, wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweats.

Just looking at him, breathing in his desire and impatience, takes Derek's breath away. All he can do, can even imagine doing, is touch Stiles. He strokes a hand down the soft skin of Stiles' chest, rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

Stiles' eyes flutter closed, and he arches into Derek's touch. "Please," Stiles whispers. 

In response, Derek leans down and licks Stiles's other nipple, sucks on it, feels it harden beneath his tongue. 

Pressing up, pushing his chest into Derek's mouth, Stiles moans, "Fucker," when Derek pulls away. "Goddamn fucking tease." 

Derek just laughs and sucks the other nipple into hardness, laves it with his tongue, soothing it. He can taste Stiles' sweat and need and trembling anticipation. It sends an electric line of want through Derek that's so close to overwhelming he has to pull away again, to sit up and breathe. 

"Gorgeous," Derek says, and runs his thumbs over the lines of Stiles' pecs and back over his nipples. He looks up and into Stiles' eyes. "You're sure?" he asks, even though what he wants to say is _don't change your mind_. 

When Stiles replies with, "Derek, just do it," a shudder runs through Derek. 

As he picks up an alcohol swab, Derek takes a deep breath. His nostrils twitch, but the acrid odor is the only reason that the hiss, the incoherent, almost illegal noise Stiles makes, doesn't snap Derek's fraying control. 

Still his hands are steady as he takes Stiles' left nipple between his finger and thumb and pulls it away from Stiles' chest. Lightly enough, but Stiles tries to arch up into it and Derek has to press him down again and growl, "Stay still." 

The needle is stainless steel. Derek holds it up to the light, turns it around, almost hypnotized by the way it gleams in the night. 

"Oh my god, Derek. Please." Stiles' eyes are wide, pleading.

Derek lowers the needle slowly, presses it against the pink-brown skin of Stiles' nipple. A single bead of blood wells up, and Derek's nostrils flare. It smells so very, very good, sharp and sweet — as addictive as Stiles himself.

Pausing, Derek glances up at Stiles. He takes in his dilated pupils, the fluttering of his long eyelashes, and the way his tongue darts out to sweep over his lips. Then, before Stiles can take another breath, Derek pushes the needle through his nipple. 

The noise Stiles makes, of shock and pain and need, has Derek's cock hard in an instant. He doesn't pause though. He swabs the nipple again, pulls the needle out, and threads in a golden barbell. 

"God," Stiles mutters. "Please." 

Derek carefully cleans the nipple again, before moving to the other one. He pinches it, watches it pebble and harden, rolls it, and when he's sure Stiles is distracted, lost in the pleasure, Derek runs the alcohol swab over the sensitive skin. 

Stiles' words break into syllables. His knuckles are whitening as he grips the headboard even tighter. He smells of need, of arousal. 

When Derek pushes the needle through that nipple, the syllables shatter into sounds. The second barbell goes in easily. A diamond at one end, to match the onyx on the other barbell. Derek wants to tug on them with his teeth, to twist them in Stiles' nipples and watch him writhe. 

But he can't. 

_Not yet_ , he tells himself, as he breathes in deeply, takes Stiles' scent inside, and then slides his hand down Stiles' chest, under his sweats and curls a hand around Stiles' cock. He tugs on it, jacks it, hard and fast. 

And when Stiles is close to the edge, when Derek's drowning in the scent of his arousal, Derek leans over and murmurs, "Mine," against the sensitive skin behind Stiles' ear, and trembles with his own orgasm, coming untouched into his pants as Stiles pulses his own release into Derek's hand.


End file.
